


The Beast, the princess and the demon

by seraphim_grace



Series: Latveria presents The Xavier school for Gifted Youngsters [2]
Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 09:57:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7840309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seraphim_grace/pseuds/seraphim_grace





	The Beast, the princess and the demon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [keire_ke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keire_ke/gifts).



Latveria was the sort of place where people could easily make the right assumption and end up at entirely the wrong conclusion. A small country in Europe ruled by the von Doom family it had the best it could give to it’s inhabitants, free health care, mandatory tertiary education, which included apprenticeships, there was virtually no unemployment, and the Latverian Lat was strong against the dollar. It sounded like paradise, unfortunately the problem was the von Dooms, Victor was, Hank knew, as mad as a bag on spiders on LSD, and the institutions he had put in place were to benefit himself. He needed a workforce capable of working in the factories he created to build the parts he needed for his death rays. If he hadn’t hated Reed Richards with the burning of a thousand suns it was possible that Latveria would have been the same as every other country in Europe. Instead it was almost futuristic, and not far behind Wakanda, without all the secrecy.

Doom also had a robot police force and very strict punishments for breaking the law but with a country as financially successful and supportive very few people in Latveria broke the law anyway. Perhaps having a leader who spent his own money building death rays he created industries to build was something other countries should try, Hank thought, rubbing his forehead as he looked into his microscope. The state of the art lab was definitely a perk.

When Charles had decided, after Cuba when he talked Erik down with a short speech about genetic possibilities and how even if there were humans on board the ships with the missiles, their children, or their children's children were likely to be mutants, given the rate of mutation Charles himself had witnessed, and Erik, dumbstruck missed with the missiles sending them into space, before just sabotaging the boats on both sides and leaving them there - sunning themselves in the caribbean waiting for rescue, to move to Latveria because his cousin Victor would welcome them and he had a small place there Hank could not have foreseen Xavier castle or that he might actually like Latveria.

No one could have foreseen Victor.

Victor might well have been clinically insane, but he was functional, just completely batshit crazy; early exposure to demonic influences, a student rivalry that ended up with him having severe third degree burns and a prototype set of armour fused to him whilst the rival ended up with superpowers was not going to be good for anyone's mental health.

So they moved to Latveria to create a mutant utopia where the governments could not get them.

They had tried, but with Charles wondering why Row Row Row your boat suddenly appeared in his head Erik had quickly dealt with the death squad before Victor even knew they were there, teleporting in with Azazel and dumping the soldiers on a boat from Shanghai to LA and telling the pentagon they had been disposed of at sea, and if it happened again they could deal with Victor.

Things had been quiet since then. The soldiers had almost certainly arrived back in America since then, but the threat had worked.

A US incursion in foreign soil was an invitation to war and a war with Latveria was something no one wanted.

So they had Castle Xavier, because Charles’ idea of a small place was a forty acre medieval fortress with over three thousand rooms, and a few thousand acres of woodland and lake. Hank wondered how Charles would have reacted to the house Hank's parents shared in Minnesota, which had two bedrooms and one sitting room. He’d probably wouldn't believe it.

So Hank had a fully equipped lab, mutant teenagers who were encouraged to come if they needed a place to learn and be who they are and a teleporter willing to show up and take them. The reports coming from the American midwest of the devil kidnapping children went on the wall in a frame.

The Wall was becoming everyone's favourite part of the castle, other than the huge and volcanic kitchens in which Azazel did the cooking, he was amazing at it - who knew - with thick filling Russian dishes and sweets appearing with the same alacrity he did, out of nowhere and getting the job done.

Just over a month after they had arrived at the castle a cow driving a car showed up with two small children, handing them over to Erik with a “congrat’s they're yours” and then driving away. The two of them, babies barely past the start of walking were clearly mutants, the boy, Pietro's hair was shock white and Wanda could grab things with her mind when she was throwing a tantrum.

Hank was willing to admit he was hiding out in his lab to avoid the two of them.

Wanda especially.

She had a tendency to toddle out of nowhere going “KITTY” and trying to climb him like a frame.

Erik was mostly distracted by Doom, and Charles was running the school, Emma was doign her best to keep Doom from building death rays that actually blew up the sun, Manhattan was fine she decided, but not Paris and certainly not the universe because that might affect her hair. Emma was very protective of her hair. Hank wondered if she was willing to sacrifice Manhattan simply because a hair dresser there had botched a cut. He wouldn't put it past her.

She tended to sweep past in the early afternoon, perfectly coiffed and dressed and hunched over her wake up coffee on her way to Victor-wrangling as she called it. With his metal skeleton fused to his frame, although Erik had certainly prettied it up some, she couldn't just use telepathy, and so used flattery, coercion, threats and crying to get him from some of his crazier paths.

Hank was just glad someone did. He had made a law recently that people with more than 75% body hair were mandated to use his new shampoo and it made Hank go from beastly fur to beastly fluff and smell of strawberries. 

“Kitty." Wanda said from the door seriously. She was better at escaping her baby sitters than some illusionists from straight jackets.

“Yes, Wanda," he said turning and getting up to go over to her. “Giraffey bed time.” She said solemnly. She was still new to words and some of the ones she chose made no sense.

“Really?” Hank said, then squinted at the windows where it was dark. “Do you think need Wanda needs to go bed time with Giraffey?”

"No." She said calmly. “Kitty story?” she offered. “Kitty cake." Was added.

“Where’s your brother?” Hank asked, scooping her up into the crook of his arm, someone would certainly notice her lack and it was best to get her back into the more populated parts of the castle before a superpowered teenager got panicked.

“Bed.” She answered, “want cake. Want kitty story.”

“Well, it's far too late for cake," he said, “you know Azazel doesn't like people going into his kitchens when he’s nto there.” Although that was true Wanda had Azazel twisted around her finger like a pretzel, appearing out of nowhere. With a pop and a stink of sulphur Azazel did appear right then, as if on cue, holding out a bag of chocolate covered prunes. “Zuzu!” Wanda screamed taking one of the candies and shoving it into her mouth.

"I shall take her, Hank," with his accent it came out ‘Ank, “it is past bedtimes for little tsarevna.”

“No," Wanda said bluntly. “Candy." She finished with.

“But if pretty Tsarevna goes to bed she can have candy in the morning.”

“Want Candy now. Kitty story." She added, reassuring Hank she hadn't forgotten that. “Candy then Kitty story then bed.” there was a pause. “Maybe.”

“Tata said you should be in bed when he comes home so he can spend tomorrow with you." Azazel said, trying to appeal to the better nature of a toddler. 

“Zuzu silly," it didn't work.

"I’ll take her," Hank conceded, “kitty story then bed.” He was sure he could think of some kind of story by the time he reached the nursery. Her brother was never this much bother. There were perks to living in Latvia, being the slave of a two year old wasn't one of them.


End file.
